


nightshade

by daiseok



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Introspection, Light Angst, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Not Beta Read, References to Canon, Time Skips, a lot of it too, jisung has a knack for petty jealousy tbh, kind of I think, lots over overthinking too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:53:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28102758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daiseok/pseuds/daiseok
Summary: Jisung should've never promised Minho anything because now he has a list of promises to keep and he's drowning under their weight.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 19
Kudos: 218





	nightshade

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. um so, this is my first work in the skz fandom (and hopefully not my last) and my first work in any fandom for like 2 years now. i honestly wasn't expecting to ever write a fic again, but i got so inspired by watching minsung moments so i wrote this during finals week (of all weeks) and... here i am?  
> 2\. i wanna thank g(1) and g(2) for allowing me to pester them while writing. they both aren't stays, but they motivated me so much to finish this and i probably wouldn't have done this without them.  
> 3\. when g(1) helped me prompt for this fic, it wasn't supposed to be canon, but i started writing and realized that it'd be better this way. with that being said, this is my interpretation of canon. some things may not be true to the timeline and i took a lot of creative liberties with it.  
> 4\. all the ages mentioned korean ages
> 
> enjoy!

The thing is, Jisung should've never promised Minho anything. He's not sure he's even able to keep any of the promises he's made; he's barely kept up his promise to Seungmin to be more organized and to help clean the dorm more often. He's too weak under the haze of loosely intertwined strings in a boy group brotherhood and a friendship. Yet, as he looks at the boy next to him staring at the screen, with the harsh blue computer light creating depth and shadows on Minho's face, he can't help but resign to the fact that he’s made a promise. 

To be honest, Jisung's tired of watching dance video after dance video. He's tired of sitting on this bed, which could barely be classified as twin sized, with his back curved against the hard white wall and his arms down by his side. His space is too invaded by Minho's existence, the other finding his way into Jisung's room every night without a single word. They always fell into a comfortable silence, with nothing left to say to each other at 2 a.m when they had already spent the better half of the day in each other's orbit. 

But right now was anything but comfortable. He just wanted his room to himself (with the exception of his roommate Jeongin) in this goddamn dorm with seven other people. Instead of his usual nighttime sentimental nostalgia in this silence, he's only thinking of the ways he could get Minho to leave. It's too much for him to deal with after a long day of rehearsal, too much to deal with after a measly 4 hours of sleep last night. Too much to deal with on a normal basis, except Minho cracks dry and sarcastic jokes at all the right times, leaving Jisung to laugh on the side uncontrollably. It's times like those when he almost forgets the regrets he holds for making such promises.

 _Those fucking promises_.

It was a series of things that happened and over time, promises became tradition. It was a way to reassure themselves that they'd always be in each other's lives in some shape or form. On every birthday, win, celebration, graduation, and performance, a promise was inevitably made. They started off small, still navigating where they stood with one another after only knowing each other for a couple of months. Things like _let's promise to practice hard together for the next week_ or _let's promise each other we'll make plans to eat a good meal after rehearsal, just the two of us_ turned into words like _promise we'll stay friends forever_ or _promise me you'll have my back wherever we go_. They're big sweeping statements that most wouldn't keep, only said to fit the wistful atmospheres that those special moments held. But Jisung has kept up every single promise like his life was on the line, Minho standing by his side.

Minho was still staring attentively at the screen that was now playing some dance crew's choreography to a song that he had maybe heard in passing once or twice. The song itself was generic, a trap beat accompanied by heavy bass, and although the volume was turned down low enough to not disturb anyone outside, it was grating on his ears this late at night.

Jisung scoffs, not really in the mood to entertain Minho much longer. 

Minho pauses the video, the frozen frame capturing a perfect snapshot of all the dancers with their legs high up in the air. Jisung's eyes stay focused on the frame until he notices Minho scanning his face, waiting for him to say something. 

Instead of pushing his thoughts aside and losing more sleep due to Minho's everlasting presence, it's now or never, he supposes. 

"Hyung, I'm really tired. Can you please go to your room instead?" he asks with a yawn slowly erupting over his face.

And Minho, he never intrudes. He never questions when he doesn't have to, never pries into anything that doesn't concern him. So instead of asking why, for the first time in months, Jisung is kicking him out instead of letting him slowly but surely fall asleep in each other's company. Where in the morning, they'll both complain about having sore muscles and a stiff neck from sharing the small space, but know in their hearts that they enjoyed the safety of another warm body in close proximity. Instead of asking why, he gently pats Jisung's head, shuts the laptop cover, which dims the entire room, and exits without a word.

As Jisung watches his retreating figure, the only thought that occupies his mind is that he should've never promised Minho anything.

...

It's almost laughable how easy it was for Jisung to become friends with Minho. Unpredictable as well though, that's for sure. 

Jisung, as a trainee, had a knack for petty jealousy; everyone and everything that had an asset better than his was viewed as nothing more than an infringement on Jisung's creativity or existence. Or both. 

Seo Changbin came in as a dancer, then put in a vocalist position, and lastly, joined Jisung as a rapper and slowly climbed up in skill with his husky and aggressive style. Hwang Hyunjin was charismatic in all of the right ways, and on top of it all had a pretty face sitting on the shoulders of his tall and lean build. Jisung was Jisung, with his own set of talents and skill, but he'll say it like it was. He's threatened, and while he can chalk it up to hormonal teenage angst now, his livelihood was on the line then, perpetually clawing his way for a chance to debut.

Lee Minho was no exception. 

The first time he meets Minho goes something like this:

He’s at a trainee meeting. The male trainees are all huddled in a small conference room, discussing something that Jisung isn't quite paying attention to. Instead, his focus has shifted towards the boy in the corner, who had just moments ago bowed stiffly and introduced himself as Lee Minho, a new trainee for JYP Entertainment. Jisung is certain that his expression is quickly transforming from something like genuine curiosity to a loaded glare because as soon as Minho had even so much looked in his direction, he had rapidly averted his eyes as if to hide in the midst of everyone else. 

But Minho is good looking, possessing these big eyes that sparkled with an odd concoction of naivety and experience, a side profile that was nothing short of perfection, and his smile is just pretty. All in all, he is just pretty.

And for Jisung, at an egotistical 17 years old, it meant that any good feelings about the boy he could've had dismembered as jealousy took the lead, dripping through Jisung's body like a weak poison that could one day be the downfall of his entire existence. He spends the rest of the hour sneaking glances, not really caring whether or not Minho saw. But just in case he did see, it would only serve to make Jisung's pride jump like _yeah, I was here first. I'm talented too, so don't get too comfortable here_ , forever caught up in a one-sided battle for dominance. 

As the meeting adjourns, he makes his way through the pack of boys, walking down the length of the hallway and back into one of the practice rooms silently until he notices a figure next to him matching his pace. 

_Lee Minho._ He grits his teeth. 

In an attempt to not be rude, he opens his mouth to start small talk, but he's beat when Minho does another one of his stiff bows and introduces himself once more. Jisung's a little caught off guard by the gesture, but he quickly imitates Minho and introduces himself too. _Han Jisung, 3rd year trainee. He's super excited to have another trainee in the company and even more excited to work together._ At the end, he hastily mutters to Minho that he doesn't need to be so formal, his awkwardness preceding his words.

"What was that?" Minho asks, not quite catching onto the flurry of words Jisung had just fumbled through. 

"I said,'' he pauses, "no need to be so formal with me." He's not quite sure what empowered him to say such a thing, but Minho breaks out into a grin and ruffles Jisung's hair. He wonders if he's made a mistake, the familiarity that Minho's acting upon barely there, but he doesn't have it in him to speak again on this issue. 

"Okay Jisungie, consider your wish granted," Minho sing-songs, the grin still plastered on his face long after he's removed his hand from Jisung's hair. They begin to walk again with their steps in a syncopated beat.

Not long after, Jisung comes to another halt, turning again to look at the boy next to him, a puzzled look on his face as he says next "What makes you so sure you're my hyung? What if I'm older than you?" He doesn’t remember ever crossing Minho before, not even in passing. And while it’s not unusual for new trainees to be familiarized with the more senior ones, Jisung is still at a loss. 

Minho shrugs. "Seungmin told me that you were the same age as him. I just assumed." Jisung nods his head slightly as the explanation, not pressing on it any further. It makes sense, Minho was standing next to Seungmin throughout the meeting. If he can recall correctly, Seungmin and Minho had entered the room together as well. He assumes that Seungmin is the one guiding Minho through trainee life, which is good for Seungmin, he was always the welcoming and diligent type. Good for Jisung too. It meant that there would be no distractions from the new boy, who would surely pester someone with questions about the ins and outs of JYP. Not that Jisung was the type to offer such a thing to begin with, but it’s the thought that counts.

The world, though, must be against him, because as soon as he feels the creeping satisfaction that comes from not having to guide a new trainee, Minho taps him on the shoulder lightly. He raises his eyebrows, signaling to Minho that he’s free to say whatever he has to say. He reasons that Minho will ask him for directions to one of the practice rooms, or maybe the way to the nearest elevator. The building is big after all. 

“How’s training here?” is what comes out of his mouth instead. Jisung has to stop himself from replying bitterly, his brain to mouth filter kicking in for once. Technically, Minho’s done nothing wrong, but he wasn't looking to make more conversation than necessary today, and he certainly wasn't looking to befriend the guy he spent the afternoon staring (read: harshly glaring) at. But he resigns to the fact that there's no harm done in having a quick conversation, maybe even scope out his competition for debut if he really wanted to. 

"It's as good as it can be, I guess" is the answer he eventually settles on. This is a truthful answer from Jisung. Trainee life, for a lack of a better word, sucks. No amount of optimism can mask the sleepless nights and frugal living. But this is his dream, and even with all of the pitfalls that come with living like a college student on a lacking budget, it's supposed to be worth it. 

_No, it will be worth it_ , he mentally corrects himself with no room for doubt or uncertainty to creep up behind him. 

“Well,” Minho replies, “I guess that’s what they all say.” 

“Is this your way of making conversation?” Jisung blurts out, but he doesn’t mean to seem rude this upfront. He can excuse everything else that’s happened before, since that was all internalized as well, but his words come out in a tone much sharper than he had intended, making him wince a little. In an attempt to rescue himself, he tacks on a fake giggle to the end of his question, buying him the time he needs to keep his face from burning up. 

Minho doesn’t seem to take notice of Jisung’s attitude, or if he does, he doesn’t point it out. Instead, a breathy laugh escapes his lips and it softens up the mood around them. 

“Sure, it is. Is this _your_ way of making conversation? Almost like talking to a brick wall.” Another one of Minho’s laughs fills the silence of the hallway as if he had just told the joke of the century. Jisung puts in his best effort to keep his face neutral, not particularly wanting to laugh at a gag pointed directly at him. Sure, he’s not always the best conversationalist, but his friends have told him that he’s funny in his own manner. Who let this practical stranger come in and make jabs at Jisung’s personality? 

But Minho’s still laughing even though the joke has long gone stale. Jisung watches for a moment, but he can’t help the fact Minho’s laugh is infectious, eventually joining him with a genuine smile that stretches across his face. They keep walking until Jisung ultimately reaches the practice room, waving a quick goodbye to Minho. He finds his way over to the speaker, plugging in his phone to blare some music on shuffle play, the sound of a 90s rap track blocking out any lingering thoughts he had about the newest trainee.

…

The first encounter he has with Minho is a fleeting memory in Jisung's mind. It's overshadowed by practices and rehearsals, late nights at the company with Chan and Changbin, learning how to write and record his own songs. Ultimately, the second encounter is what solidifies Minho’s position in Jisung's life from just another trainee who he's friendly with to something more akin to a friend. 

It's late. To be more specific about it, it's almost 3 in the morning. Jisung's sitting in the practice room alone, which isn't an uncommon occurrence. Usually, he lets all of the adrenaline that comes from working late at night drive him until he's satisfied with his performance, but tonight, he'd rather do anything than run this choreography another time. Although most of his senses are dulled due to the throbbing pain in his legs, he can still feel the beads of sweat dripping down his face. He wipes his forehead down with the towel he brought from home and smacks his hands onto the wooden boards, hoping it'll provide a source of stability as he pulls himself off of the floor and back onto his feet. 

Before he’s all the way up, his arms barely providing any leverage for the rest of his body weight, the door of the practice room swings open. The sound is a sensory overload for Jisung, who has spent the last ten minutes groaning to only the faint humming of the AC unit. He's startled and his hands slip from underneath him, forcing his body to fall with a thud and leaving him in a worse position than what he started with. 

_Maybe this is a sign to go to sleep_ , Jisung thinks to himself, knowing that he'd be more productive after a good night's rest than if he practiced more tonight. But to do that would mean to admit defeat, and he had told himself earlier that he wouldn't leave until he danced to his standards. So he tries again, hands planted on the ground as he attempts to make his way up onto his feet. 

This is a slow, torturous process for him. He's long forgotten about the practice room door opening until suddenly, a voice rings clear throughout the room and he stumbles again, right back to square one. 

“Hey,” the voice greets him. Although familiar, Jisung can't quite place who the voice belongs to, so he just groans in response. He tries to find comfort on the floor, the thought of getting up for the third time too embarrassing to consider. So he lies there for a moment, eyes closed in pseudo-sleep, until the voice speaks again.

“Jisung, get up, will you? I doubt the floor is as comfortable as you make it seem.” The voice is riddled with a hint of concern, so Jisung, sensitive to any kind of guilt-tripping, opens his eyes. He blinks once, the figure in front of him a little blurry. When his eyes finally focus, it's Minho, standing above him with an outstretched hand, waiting to pull Jisung off of the ground so he doesn't have to embarrass himself again. He takes a deep breath and grabs onto the hand, springing into an upright position.

While he's dusting off his clothes, he thanks Minho for the gesture and makes his way over to his bag, grabbing his water bottle and taking a generous sip before closing the lid. During all of this, Minho stays wordlessly watching Jisung in the mirror with no move to leave the room. Jisung assumes that this is Minho’s way of giving him a chance to explain himself, but he'd rather divert his attention away from his situation, not really looking to discuss why he's still dancing long after everyone's already gone home.

He would much rather discuss why Minho is still at the company this late at night instead.

“What are you still doing here hyung? I thought everyone already went back to the dorms?” 

“I could say the same for you,” Minho replies. He makes his way over to where Jisung is standing and lets the wall support his weight. 

_Fair enough._ This life of staying up until dawn to practice with very little sleep is no surprise to any of the trainees. At the end of the day, it's all about the results from their hard work, and hard work comes from practice. There's always more time in the day to practice. Nobody really cares how little you've slept if there are no results to show for it. 

But between trainees, this topic is definitely no conversation starter. It leaves the practice room silent again, and Jisung is at a loss for what to say next. He barely knows Minho, barely knows what talent he brings to the company. He could be a singer, a dancer, or _god forbid_ another rapper. So he just stands there, fumbling with his water bottle to make him seem a little more occupied than if he was just standing still. 

Minho speaks up first, obviously bothered by the lack of anything related to socialization on Jisung's front.

“What were you working on?” he tilts his head curiously to the side, awaiting a response from the younger.

Jisung, who was momentarily distracted by Minho's presence, is snapped right back into reality of why he was here in the first place. He can't help the sound of despair that flees from his mouth. The mere thought of having to run the choreography again is twenty times more painful now than when he started hours ago. 

“The choreography from earlier this morning,” he sighs. 

“ _I Need U_ choreography?” He looks back at Jisung, eyes swirling with something that he can't quite place.

“Yeah,” he clicks his tongue in frustration. His trainee showcase group was performing this song in a couple of weeks, but that amount of time would pass by like nothing. Jisung wanted, no he _needed_ , to get a grip on this dance _now_. “How'd you know?”

“Heard Chan talking about it. Also, I passed by this room a couple of times before this.” Minho says with an air of nonchalance. “Want some help?”

Jisung furrows his brows in confusion. Most people would just leave him be after hearing an explanation, and he assumed Minho would be the same. Instead, he's looking at Jisung expectedly, and even though he's certain he could do it on his own with just a little more time, he just nods in agreement. 

“So you're a dancer, huh.” He doesn't know what else to say, this is the first time he's ever really interacted with Minho past the one time in the hallway. Minho lets out a giggle at that statement as if it was supposed to be a no brainer. But why blame Jisung for asking the obvious, Minho's never told him more about himself other than his name and age. 

“Sure, you could say that.”

Minho spends the next hour or so demonstrating the choreography, bending Jisung's arms and legs into place until he's finally gotten the hang of it to do the first half of the dance without the elder pausing and rewinding the music to correct him. Usually, he would've blown up by now, the constant corrections and the fog in his brain are not always a great match. But Minho is a great dancer, certainly better than he is right now, and the way his demeanor changed once he started to assist Jisung tells him all he needs to know. 

By the time the clock is nearing 4 a.m, both of them are sprawled across the floor on their backs, bodies drenched in a visible layer of sweat. Minho turns onto his side, his eyes softening to look at Jisung. It's not awkward, and Jisung shouldn't feel this comfortable with someone he's barely known for not even a month, but he does anyway. He looks right back into Minho's eyes and both of them crack a smile that progressively transforms into hearty laughter. Everything's funnier when it's the middle of the night, and they're both running on empty. 

When they calm down from the high of laughter, Minho holds out his pinkie and grabs Jisung's free hand as well.

“Promise me,” he begins, “that you'll take more breaks for yourself. You were acting like you were half wasted when I first came in.”

Jisung rolls his eyes at the statement, but he frees his hand from Minho's grip and links their pinkies nonetheless. 

“I could say the same for you, hyung,” he says, repeating Minho’s words from earlier. 

“Well then I guess we’ll just have to promise each other, won't we?” Minho replies cheekily. Jisung's not quite sure how they've gone from silence to dancing, and now to making promises with one another, but he doesn't mind. They shake their hands with their pinky fingers still intertwined as if to solidify the promise.

Jisung reckons that this was the first mistake he's ever made in regards to Minho. That if he had just let his pride take the wheel, Minho wouldn't have helped him with the choreography. Then they wouldn't have made a promise. A promise that was barely there, but still a promise regardless. He’ll tease Minho about this night occasionally, how it was _such a sappy moment from such a sappy hyung_. He’ll earn an earful of denial in response, even if a smile adorns Minho's face. 

But this was his first mistake, making this promise, because now he has a list of promises with Minho to keep and he's drowning under their weight.

…

When Jisung debuted at the ripe age of 18, a lot of his resentment had faded. His hard work, his dedication, all of it had finally paid off for he was now a member of Stray Kids. Minho was by his side, as he usually was these days, and he couldn't be more ecstatic. He was with his best friend, a great group of friends, and he had fans who loved and assured him. 

“We really debuted together, you know?” he mutters into the night, Minho cuddled by his side after a long day of filming. “I'm so glad you're here.” 

Minho was never the type to be cheesy and sentimental like Jisung, so he doesn't really expect a response from him. He just stares at his ceiling, fuzzy and dark like the rest of his room. 

“Me too,” Minho finally replies back, voice groggy with sleep. And while Jisung wasn't expecting a reply back, he certainly can't help but tease him. The fact that this is Minho, _Lee Minho,_ who's buying into Jisung's sickly sweet memory lane? Well, it'd most likely never happen again.

He pokes at Minho's side, causing the elder to wrap his arms around Jisung's waist in a futile attempt to stop him. When he doesn't let up, Minho opens his eyes to look at Jisung's smug expression. 

“What,” he groans, rolling over onto his other side. Jisung swiftly swings his arms over, turning Minho back to his side so he's able to face him.

“You were being cheesy. Never knew I'd see that from you.” Jisung's smug expression has not left his face since, and he's provoking Minho, he's sure. It's enough that Minho might never satisfy his indulgences to be emotional ever again. 

This elicits another groan from Minho, who obviously just wants to sleep next to Jisung with none of the theatrics. Now he feels a little remorseful. Minho is tired, after all, it's been a long day, so maybe Jisung should've waited until they were both rejuvenated to bother the other boy. 

“You act as if you've never seen someone with a personality before. Who said I couldn't be emotional with you?” Minho throws back at Jisung, but there's no malice in his words. Instead of saying more, he grabs Minho's arms and circles them around his own body. Minho completes the gesture, tightening his grip around Jisung's waist. It's a little warm in the room, even warmer with their bodies pressed against each other, but he can't find it in himself to mind it much. It's soothing, knowing that he’ll always have someone to fall back to at the end of the day. Someone who's usually not much further than a few rooms away. 

Almost three years later, he misses who he was at debut. A teenage boy, not yet corrupted by the industry. Someone who spent every waking moment excited to perform and write and rap and sing. Not that he wasn't excited to do those things now, it was just that the thoughts of Minho preoccupied his mind. Which was not productive, to say the least.

Maybe he shouldn't have been so naive. From their seniors, he's always heard the age-old advice of “be coworkers first and friends second.” Obviously, he doesn't think any of them took it further than face value. Who's to tell Chan, their leader, who believed in a strong brotherhood between the eight, that he was wrong. Of course they were coworkers, but to call each other coworkers before they were calling each other friends was almost a little bit degrading. After all, these were the people who knew his eating habits, sleeping habits, life concerns, and secrets. 

He probably should’ve listened to them, they weren’t seniors for nothing. 

It was probably that night, he assumes, that changed everything for the worse. At first, he was able to brush off his emotions as another product of sentimentality. It was like his habit of listening to ballads about heartbreak while in the car ride home from schedules. He wasn’t heartbroken over anyone, but the softness of the piano instrumental has made him shed more tears than he’d like to admit. 

So yeah, that’s how he felt about his emotions towards Minho in the beginning. They were just a product of spending time together. They were the product of close proximity and lack of other options around them. They were the product of having too many midnight talks about nothing in particular. It wasn’t even any specific emotion; all he knew was that he enjoyed spending time with Minho and having him nearby.

Though, he’s learned his lesson now. Have close relationships but clear boundaries. Think of your group mates as colleagues first, then as friends second. He’s heard it all before, but this might be the first time he's taken it to heart. 

_Too late now Jisung, you’re fucked._

It was probably that night that changed everything for the worse. He vaguely recalls a promise he’d made that night, his pinky loosely locked with Minho’s, something along the lines of a _promise that we’ll make it through this strong together._ It was well-needed assurance, even though he was still intoxicated on debut emotions then. Yet it was right now, that he’s finally able to put a word on these emotions. He was three years older, three years wiser when he came to the conclusion that he liked his groupmate. Yes, he liked Lee Minho, his groupmate, best friend, all of the above. Maybe it’s love, but he plays it safe. 

_God,_ he was so fucked. 

…

After their second encounter in the dance studio, Jisung finds himself gravitating towards Minho more often. Talking to him becomes almost effortless, and Minho is a good-natured person. He acts offended when he needs to play the part as the butt of the joke but doesn't take it deeper than surface level. He buys food for the younger trainees, and he advises the rest of them on their dancing. He fits in seamlessly with most of them, and Jisung can hardly remember there being a time where he wasn’t there. Of course, there are times when some of the trainees gossip about Minho, where he was before signing with JYP, and sometimes about how he’s almost too outgoing. _He’s too comfortable with them even though they’ve been there for years and he’s only been there for months._

Jisung can’t imagine why that would be a negative thing, but he doesn’t really care either way. To him, Minho is just Minho, an enigma that he’s gradually beginning to piece together. Whatever impression he had of him to begin with has dissipated into nothing now. Sure, Minho’s exceptionally good looking, there’s no denying that, but Jisung is long past envying it. Perhaps there is a broader message in here somewhere, but in any case, Minho is a friend to him.

They’re done with practicing for the trainee showcase earlier than usual today, and Jisung’s all but ready to crash in his bed afterward when Minho drags Jisung out of the practice room. He leads him down the hallway and towards the direction of the elevators. 

“Where are we going?” Jisung barely has the time to catch his breath before the elevator doors are opening and Minho steps in, waiting for Jisung to follow behind him. He presses several buttons all at once before releasing them, only to press the button that leads them to the ground floor. It’s strange, but it’s also Minho, and it’s somewhat amusing for Jisung to discover these tendencies. 

“Where are we going?” he tries again, hoping that he’ll receive more than an empty look. Minho continues to walk, pushing open the glass doors of JYP that lead them onto a busy street. Once they both step onto the pavement, Minho scans his surroundings before answering the question.

“Let’s go get dinner. I’m kind of hungry.” As if it was a paid actor, Jisung’s stomach grumbles, the sound of it still audible even with cars driving past them in the background. He diverts his eyes, moderately flustered by what just happened when Minho chuckles and grabs onto the younger’s arm. They start to walk again with a certain calmness between them. Jisung’s leisurely pacing to the rhythm that they’ve created, uncertain of how long they’ve even been walking until Minho stops in front of a sushi restaurant. 

“You like sushi, right?” The corners of Jisung’s mouth turn up and Minho mirrors the movement. 

“Of course hyung, who do you take me for?”

Minho pulls the door handle of the restaurant with a little more force than necessary, causing him to fly back a bit before stabilizing himself. Jisung snickers at the scene, but appreciates Minho’s gesture nevertheless and makes his way inside the restaurant. 

They both order, the older boy insisting that Jisung “treat himself, but just a little,” which the younger responds to by shoving Minho lightly. They were both very much aware of their financial situation: two young boys with no jobs, relying on their parent’s allowances, and fighting over 1,000 won bills if the situation ever prompted them to do so. 

When the food arrives, they cease their small talk to indulge after what seemed like constant vocal and dance lessons, group practices, and rehearsals. When the first bite of food hits his tongue, jubilance surges through his body. He has to thank Minho for hauling him to this place later or else he would be stuck in his dorm with a container of instant cup noodles. Not that instant cup noodles were bad, just that it wasn’t a restaurant meal. Plus, he’d been eating them for the past week and a half, he deserved more than that.

“Wow hyung, this is really good,” he speaks through a mouthful of food. Although not the most mannered Jisung could’ve been, Minho obviously doesn’t mind, uttering a sound of agreeance. After devouring a couple more pieces of sushi, Minho puts down his chopsticks and clasps his hands, catching Jisung’s attention.

“Jisungie,” Minho observes Jisung with a blank expression. “Do you think fish have feelings?”

Jisung coughs at the words, not particularly sure where Minho’s mind had escaped to in the stretch of time between their idle chatter and shoving food in their mouths. 

“Sure? I mean, I’m no animal expert, but I’d assume so?” Surprisingly enough, Jisung’s old biology knowledge is coming in handy at this specific point in time. “You tell me, do they have feelings?” He retorts, opting instead for Minho to give his perspective. He knew the elder was much more interested in animals than Jisung was. 

“See, that’s what I thought too.” Minho picks up his chopsticks again to take another piece of sushi, hovering it directly in front of Jisung’s mouth before swerving his hand so he could eat it himself. “But here we are anyway. How do you feel about this Jisung, eating these poor, short-lived fishies? Maybe they were having a great time in the ocean. How do you feel about that, huh?”

“Hey!” Jisung snorts at the image Minho has depicted. “First of all, these fish were probably factory farmed. Second of all, you’re being hypocritical. You’re the one who brought me here in the first place.” Jisung takes another piece of sushi for himself afterward and pops it into his mouth, cheeks puffed out and face exaggerated in pleasure from the taste of fish and rice just to spite Minho. 

Both of them started guffawing at that, and when their plates were empty and their bill had come, they side-eyed each other after seeing the price on the receipt, shamefully sliding their (parent’s) credit cards into the bill, vowing to each other that they would never satiate their cravings for luxurious food again until after debuting. They burst into laughter at that too, earning them a couple of disgruntled looks from the other patrons. Jisung couldn’t find it in himself to care much about it, not after having one of the best nights in the midst of all the other stressors in his life.

This becomes another one of their traditions, Minho leading Jisung to a random restaurant after practice, promotions or photoshoots. Every so often, the food meets neither of their standards, but it's another story to tell and a memory to make. A place for when someone asks for their recommendations, they can come together and reminiscence about waiting in line only to be let down in the end. Or maybe at how Jisung spilled his water all over the table, causing a scene and missing his phone just barely, making this adverse experience even worse. 

This becomes another promise of sorts since he knows how content Minho gets from spending time with Jisung alone, and even though they’re still groupmates, they’re free from the responsibilities of the group for a short amount of time. 

And with each new restaurant visit, Jisung swears that he can physically feel his heart swell and drop within the same beat. 

…

When he wakes up the next morning, the room feels drafty even with all of his blankets piled on top of him. And although his bed is small, it's unusually vast considering the circumstances. He rolls over with nothing obstructing the way.

 _That’s right, Minho left earlier._ He recalls the events of last night. Nothing special about it, just the two of them watching YouTube until Minho decided to take full reign over the selection of videos, queuing dances that Jisung could care less about. Normally, he would just bear with it, there’s a natural appeal to these videos. For Minho, it’s about a true passion for dance even after work hours, but even beyond that, the way that the dancers move on the screen is mesmerizing for the average person. But it had bothered him, the way that Minho was so intent on piercing his gaze through the laptop screen. The dances had long mixed together for Jisung, the bass from the laptop speakers matching his forever thudding heart. 

And if it comes down to the root of why he kicked Minho out, there it is. Because he really can’t stand one more minute of being in the vicinity of the boy he likes. No, the boy he _loves,_ he’s certain now, and everything about the situation makes it so much worse than it has to be. But he’s Han Jisung, when does he ever catch a break? Life made it out to be that he’s stuck in the same group as Minho, lives in the same apartment as Minho, shares the same bathroom as him too. There’s barely any time in the day to be alone, and when he is, Minho, without fail, will be by his side. Or vice versa.

Whether that was purposeful or not, Jisung couldn’t say. 

After lying in bed for an indiscernible amount of time, he lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding and slips out of the covers. The floor is cold against his bare feet, so he shuffles his way into his slippers, which were flipped over on the other side of the room from being recklessly kicked off his feet last night. 

He checks his phone. _10:56 a.m._ He’s up sooner than he usually is, and he sure as hell doesn’t want to deal with anyone right now. Most of the other boys sleep in until the early afternoon. Jisung typically follows suit, but he had woken up in random intervals throughout the night, with the last hour of sleep out of four he got the most helpful in rejuvenating him. Which was to say, not very helpful at all. He was drained of energy right now, but there was no way he would be able to doze off in this state. 

Still, he’s not expecting anyone else to be awake. He wanders towards the kitchen, the dorm silent with the exception of a couple of chirping birds and whirling sirens from the outside. His eyelids are heavy against his eyes, but the clattering of dishes upon his arrival causes him to flinch in surprise. 

_Just his luck_. It’s Minho, grinning sheepishly at the mess of mugs and plates he’s scattered around the dinner table. He attempts to gather the plates and cups again, stacking them in an unstable structure only for them to wobble violently. Minho takes two steps backward before giving up, placing the stack back onto the table and bringing the dishes to the sink two at a time. 

Jisung watches this entire spectacle, though he’s not processing what’s happening until Minho takes a seat at the table and exhales, evidently bothered by the ordeal. More silence fills the room, which appears to be a recurring theme between the two of them. 

After a while, Minho lifts his head to observe Jisung circling around the kitchen with no motive. He’s not hungry, wasn’t even hungry to begin with, and now with Minho’s attention on him, his appetite has shrunk even more. He decides that his best course of action is to look through the fridges for something, anything at this point so he doesn’t have to meet Minho’s gaze. 

“Hannie?” Minho shatters whatever bubble was around them. “You good there?”

Jisung is still opening and closing the fridge doors, nothing appetizing catching his eye. He looks crazy, he’s sure, but he settles on a bottle of grape juice at last, twisting open the cap and bringing the mouth of the bottle to meet his lips. The sweetness from the juice is enough to boost his energy just a small amount, but his blood sugar feels like it's about to plummet when he comes in contact with Minho’s face.

“Yeah hyung?” 

“You good there? You look like you got something on your mind.” Minho stands up from his seat, the chair screeching across the floor in a pitch too high for either of them to handle this early in the morning. Jisung winces at the noise before acknowledging the question from earlier. 

“It’s just early hyung. I’m tired.” He takes another swig of the grape juice. It does no miraculous wonders this time. He curses under his breath. _Why must the sugar boost not work the second time around when he actually needs it to? Damn you, processed sugar. Maybe he should’ve just eaten some grapes instead._

“Woah Jisung, the juice didn’t do anything to you.” Minho takes the bottle out of his grasp and sets it on the counter nearest to them. He’s debating whether or not to leave the kitchen when Minho’s back is turned, but before he can make his final decision, the elder has already found the spot next to him again, this time with an arm slung across Jisung’s shoulder.

“We’re still on for tonight right? I let everyone know we’d be getting dinner together after the shoot. I told them they could join, but you know how they are.” Minho says to him. Jisung had not forgotten about their plans. At the end of the day, all he’s promised to do is to eat at another one of Minho’s restaurant finds, but it’s looking less and less appealing now. But of course, he hums in agreement. Minho merely smiles and messes up Jisung’s bed hair more with his palm, hand lingering for a second before unlatching his arm from Jisung’s neck. 

Some part of Jisung’s heart inflates at the idea of solely spending time with Minho like this. He knows that all of his group mates are friends. They all hang out together outside of schedules, it's not exclusive to Minho and him. But he’s aware that they spend the most time together, far more outside of work than with anyone else.

It’s dangerous to have these kinds of feelings, even more dangerous to be optimistic. He knows, _knows,_ that he’s being all too self-indulgent with Minho’s time. While the older boy offers from the goodness of his heart, Jisung’s only accepting to lessen the ache at this point. It’s effective in the short run. In the long run, the cut digs itself deeper and deeper. 

He constantly wonders if anyone else knows just how deep these feelings run. It’s been years since they’ve started to develop, he’s way too behind the curve to dig himself out now. _They must know,_ Jisung concludes. Because even though he’s not outright about how he feels, he’s hinted at it before he could even put a label on it. He’s called Minho his soulmate more than once, and he has not turned a blind eye to the relentless teasing from Changbin. Even Minho had commented on how Jisung is determined to stick to him at all times. 

Jisung has his own reservations about the last one. He’s not going to refute that he’s always by Minho’s side, but he finds it contradictory when Minho was the one crawling into his bed late at night with plans to visit somewhere with him in the morning. 

…

There’s a memory in his mind that repeats itself relentlessly in the depth of the night. For when he can’t sleep, this scene is always there to haunt him.

_You like me right? But in what way do you like me?_

_What way am I supposed to like you hyung?_

A pause.

_I don’t know._

This clip of them has been viewed to death. Their fans like their chemistry and bring it up on social media often as an iconic moment between the two. _It’s well warranted_ , he guesses, fans like that kind of thing. They like to ship and speculate, which is nothing new. It’s not something he wants to think about, but it sneaks up onto him, the words chipping away at his sanity.

It was incredibly blatant, no amount of word gymnastics will ever twist the implications of what Minho had said. He didn't know what it meant when it had happened, but now… _now_ he was too aware of it all. Whether or not Minho meant what Jisung so desperately wanted it to mean. Well, that was another story all together. 

Minho puts on the unbothered act quite well. He’s always saying things that wouldn't slide if it wasn't just a Minho thing to do. Has his limits, like any person should, but doesn't really care about what other people have to say. _They don't know me, only I know me,_ was his rationale for it when Jisung had asked if any of the comments hurt more than he cared to show.

If there was one trait that Jisung wants from Minho, it would be this. Jisung was not the unbothered type of person in comparison. Sure, he never let strangers on the internet dictate the way he lives his life, but he couldn't always _say_ or _do_ what he wanted the way Minho so effortlessly could.

So for Minho to say such a thing, and on camera, that could be interpreted in a multitude of ways. He could've just said it to entertain the viewers, knowing they'd make a spectacle out of that. He could've said it to spark a reaction out of Jisung. He could've said it because he just had nothing else to say. There could have been no deeper meaning to it, no rhyme or reason.

 _Or_ , Jisung is stumbling into uncharted territory now, _he could've said it because he wanted to know. Because maybe-_

No. He won't go there.

_You like me right? But in what way do you like me?_

_What way am I supposed to like you hyung?_

He knows exactly the way he likes Minho now. Though, he’s not quite certain as to if he's supposed to like him in that way.

...

**리노링:**

_I’ll meet you at the cafe around 1_

_Got caught up with Hyunjinnie in the studio ha ha ha_

**지성이** :

_Oh sorry hyung_

_I don’t think I’m feeling it too much rn_

This is the first promise that Jisung breaks. It’s truly insignificant, just a promise to get coffee as usual, but for some reason, the atmosphere feels tense and heavy as soon as he pressed send. He’s not lying though. Truthfully, he wants nothing more than to stay glued to where he is. No amount of caffeine from the diluted espresso would give him the energy he needed to plaster a smile around Minho right now. 

It takes a few minutes before Minho responds. 

**리노링** :

_Oh ok_

_See you back at the dorm?_

**지성이** :

_Yeah, see you_

**리노링** :

_Do you want me to bring back anything?_

Minho is an intense texter. Talk to him once and instantly there’s 13 unread messages on the screen, half of them an emoji spam and the other half a poorly written question spread across the chat bubbles. In response to Jisung, he would regularly respond with a joke or two. 

Despite that, the elder has apparently picked up on Jisung’s sour mood today, and the considerate question is enough to send his heart into overdrive.

But alas. 

**지성이** :

_I’m good, thanks_

...

Being in love is not a personality trait. Jisung’s feelings aren't always in the forefront, and he is able to push them aside most of the time. In fact, there are times when he almost forgets about them because when he's with Minho, they create their own little world, cracking up until their ribs are sore. Of course, there are moments when he looks to the elder and he’s aware of the love in his chest as a silent truth, but it's a warm, bubbling love that he can live with.

That turns out to no longer be the case. 

His feelings have gone from that fuzzy love to more burgeoning. It’s too late to try and purge the feelings from him, but he’s conscious that if he spends more time than necessary with Minho, he will never be able to mitigate the effect that the elder has on him. He turns down more requests to go to their usual cafe, more invites to new restaurants he’s found on Naver or MangoPlate, and eventually, Minho stops asking too. 

He doesn’t see the elder around the company building unless they have group sessions and doesn’t really see him around the dorm either. It’s bizarre, to say the least. The dorm is not quite big enough to not have any accidental run-ins with the others, but he shrugs it off. 

It’s less effort on his side after all.

Jisung is lounging in the living room a few days later, AirPods plugged into his ears and a notebook resting on his knees. There is no music playing; it’s too distracting when he’s trying to write lyrics, but it’s supposed to be more of a signal than anything else so that anyone who walks in won’t care to bother him. 

He’s thrown himself into work recently, the words not coming to him as easily as he had hoped, but it's still better than nothing. _The least he could do is get some angst out of his emotions_ , he reasons. The amount of ink he has scratching out the words on the paper says otherwise.

He can hear the sound of soft footsteps and chatter from the other side of the front door, but he pays it no attention. That is until, the doorknob is rattling from the force of the key, and the door swings open, amplifying the voices from the outside. Jisung looks fixedly at the door, waiting to see who just came home when Minho and Felix step into the corridor, looking amused at something the other had just said. 

Jisung watches as Felix and Minho take off their shoes and carry them to the shoe rack, still discussing something that he can’t quite make out. They’re too distracted to notice his presence several meters away until Felix spins around and meets Jisung’s gaze. 

“Jisungie!” Felix is too excitable for Jisung despite it being late afternoon already. He assumes it's because he’s become familiar with the peace and quiet of being alone all day, but he welcomes Felix into his arms. 

“What’re you up to?” Felix asks once he removes himself from Jisung’s grasp and settles down on the couch with him, pointing towards the notebook that’s now fallen on the ground. It’s planted in a way that the pages are sure to have been crumpled from the impact and Jisung groans before retrieving it from the floor and back into his lap. He flattens the pages by pressing down on the creases with his fingers before closing the notebook and setting it upside down in hopes that the heaviness from the thick cardboard cover will rid the pages of the crinkles over time. 

“Just some new lyrics.” 

“Well, can I see?” Felix puts on his best pout in order to convince Jisung, but he’s not so easily swayed.

“Hmmm,” he puts on a look like he’s considering the offer, rubbing his chin for dramatic effect, before he’s met with a playful hit on his shoulder from the sleeves of Felix’s jacket. “Stop that! Wouldn’t it be better if it was a surprise anyway?” 

Felix doesn’t respond to that, only snickering a little before standing up and disappearing into the hallway, presumably to his room. 

It’s escaped from his memory that Felix entered with Minho, but when he scans the room for the older boy, he finds that he’s already alone. 

...

Eight boys with an additional ten staff members crammed into the poor excuse of a waiting room at the music broadcasting station is never ideal, but Jisung can only make the most of it. 

They're performing on a special stage, and although they've all been awake since the crack of dawn, the actual broadcast doesn't start until hours later. They have a decent amount of time until then. It’s a good time to level up in whatever mobile game he’s obsessed with at the moment or engage in mindless conversation with the other members. 

It's not unusual that he spends most of the hours when he's at the broadcasting station watching YouTube videos alone or taking a belated nap in a quiet corner. But his Watch Later had been emptied earlier on the car ride to the station and although he has been lacking in the sleep department lately, he’s not drowsy enough to doze off on a mat or in a flimsy chair, so he decides to seek out the company of someone else instead. 

Chan and Changbin are getting their hair and makeup touched up, so Jisung decides to not bother them with his company. Felix is asleep and Hyunjin is sitting on the reclining chair with his brows drawn close together, attentively playing his game. Every so often, he can see Hyunjin roll his eyes back in frustration. Probably not the best time to pester him either.

From the corner of his eye, he can make out the outline of the two youngest members and Minho. They're sitting on a counter, Seungmin chatting away animatedly while Minho and Jeongin listen in. They're both skeptical of whatever Seungmin’s saying, Jisung can see that much, but they indulge him regardless, letting him ramble on. 

At this scene, he can feel his teenage jealousy making a comeback. The glaring, the swirling in his stomach, it’s all there, just in a different flavor from the past. _Jealousy is a disease, envy is a sin,_ he’s heard it all before. It was something he swore he had matured from, but right now, it was ever so looming in the background. _He was almost 22 years old, why the hell was he not acting like it?_

Even though Minho and Jisung were known to be attached at the hip, they still had other friends. Minho had a camaraderie with just about everyone. He liked getting a kick out of teasing the younger members and Chan. If that wasn't the case, then he was out in another room catching up with other idols he had managed to befriend that were promoting at the same time. 

That was nothing new, Minho was just a sociable person. Therefore it really should not be bothering him this much that Minho was conversing with people, his own _group mates_ nonetheless. But perhaps it was because Minho had given up on spending any time with Jisung, hadn't even bothered to simply acknowledge him in the dorm or the car that had him feeling this way. 

The sound of Minho’s laugh vibrates through his ears then, and Jisung makes the executive decision to walk over to where Hyunjin’s sitting, hovering over the boy to let his presence be known. 

“Hey,” he says. Instantly, the screen on Hyunjin’s phone lights up a vibrant red to alert him that he's lost. 

“You just made me die.” Hyunjin retorts in English, running a hand through his golden hair in frustration, dropping the phone by his side before looking up at Jisung. Jisung almost feels bad for him. “What's up? Not bothering Lee Know hyung now?”

 _Everything always comes back to this apparently._ “What if I just wanted to spend some time with you?” He asks pointedly. Hyunjin was his friend too, sue him for wanting to hang out with him. “You don't like me now or something?” He scowls to no avail.

“You’re just putting words into my mouth now.” Hyunjin scoots over on the recliner to make room for Jisung and motions for him to sit. The chair is just big enough for them to fit, but they’re still squished against the sides. “I’m only saying that cause you aren't as attached as normal. Plus, don't play dumb now, but you've been staring in his direction since we got here.” 

“No, I haven't” Jisung quickly denies. 

Hyunjin does a double-take at that, his face flooded in disbelief as his eyes shift from looking at Jisung to looking in Minho’s direction. He releases a heavy sigh, supposedly disappointed with Jisung’s response. “Did something happen between you two?”

Jisung doesn't know the answer to that anymore, so he stays quiet, offering only a slight shrug. 

“You are being pathetic, you know that?” He can sense that Hyunjin is about to lecture him, but he probably can't process rational thinking right now. “You are not that sly. If you're that bothered by whatever happened between you guys, then just go talk to him. He’s all bark but no bite, seriously.” 

“Do you even have the merit to say that?” Jisung snorts, choosing to ignore the rest of the boy’s advice. He can think of more than one occasion where Hyunjin has been the target of Minho's quote on quote, bite. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Hyunjin’s words are dripping in sarcasm. He picks up the phone that had long fallen into the cracks of the cushion, scrolling through the apps before loading a drama series that Jisung knew the boy had been watching recently. Hyunjin wraps his arms around Jisung as they wait for the episode to buffer, bringing his head close to his chest. Right before the introduction credits begin, Hyunjin speaks again. “But I meant for you.” 

Jisung has to wonder what Hyunjin meant by that. 

… 

He should not be awake right now. They have an early start tomorrow, but he's restless. His room is not the sanctuary that it should be, with Jeongin’s steady breathing is more annoying than assuring, and his comforter lying uncomfortably on top of him, so he decides to take refuge in the living room instead. When he gets there, he sees Minho's sitting in the middle of the sofa, phone in his hands while he's mindlessly scrolling. Minho eventually notices Jisung situated by the doorway and arches his eyebrows before turning back to the phone.

They haven't exchanged more than a simple greeting in over a week. Jisung is suffocated by the space between them. It wasn't ever supposed to get this bad, if only he was able to prioritize Minho’s friendship over his selfishness.

“Why are we avoiding each other?” Jisung blurts, regretting it as soon as the words leave his mouth, but the question has been burning in his throat. _But he was the one who started this. He was the one who ignored all of Minho’s invites, so did he even have the right to ask?_ He comes closer to Minho’s spot on the couch and sits a considerable distance away on the far left side. 

Minho clicks the side button of his phone, the screen turning black before he throws his head back, body thrown haphazardly against the cushion. Jisung follows Minho's chest as it expands, the result of taking a large inhale of breath. 

“I don't know what you want me to say, Jisung. You were the one ignoring me first. I just thought you wanted some space.” Minho was good at that, applying a logical explanation for Jisung's actions rather than assuming the worst. 

“Do you wanna talk? I mean, maybe you'll feel better if you just let it all out.” Things like this highlighted how Minho really was older than him. Jisung had owned up to his own immaturity more than once, but he's unsure if he'd be as forgiving to someone if they had pulled the same stunt he had with Minho. On the other hand, the older boy believed that holding grudges was a trivial matter that he didn't need to bother with. 

“Wow, you almost sound like Chan hyung. What happened to you?” The awkward air dissipates then. There's an ease that's present whenever Jisung talks to Minho that makes their friendship work. 

An offended look crosses Minho's face at Jisung's words. 

“Is that supposed to be an insult?”

“No.” Jisung shrugs. “It's just not usual that I talk to you about things like this. I wouldn't say we're the type of people for this.”

“Oh, so you can make a bunch of greasy promises in the middle of the night but you can't talk about your real feelings. That's what I’m getting from all of this.” Well if he puts it like that, then it does seem pretty silly on Jisung's end. What’s the difference between one emotional thing and another?

Jisung hits Minho's crossed arms anyway. Even if Minho's right, he still has to defend himself before any more holes are found in his reasoning. “Hey! You were the one that started the promise thing. Plus it's…” His voice gradually gets quieter, trailing off at the end, doubtful on what else to say. 

Minho snorts at this, apparently finding it entertaining that Jisung's at a loss because of him. He uncrosses his arms and runs his hand through Jisung's hair before speaking up again. 

“So what's up?”

Jisung grunts. _So they're back to this now._ “I don't know. I really don't know anymore.” He bites the inside of his cheek, thinking of what he could say next to reveal just a little. “You really think we're always going to be like this?”

“I mean, what's _like this_?” There's a sharp emphasis on the latter half of the sentence, like Jisung's just asked something ridiculous. “Like with you and the rest of the guys? Hopefully, I’m not a fortune teller though. But like living in this dorm forever? Well, I’d certainly hope not.” 

“What's wrong with this dorm?” He frowns slightly. It's not the most ideal, but this is the place he now calls home. It's kind of cozy and lived in, all eight of their belongings dispersed around miscellaneous areas. Plus, he doesn't know how he'd be able to live alone after so many years of living with trainees and now, with his group mates. 

“There’s two bathrooms for eight people, Hannie. We also sleep in bunk beds. If I was in college, that's whatever, but I'm not. I think even my childhood bedroom was better than this.”

_Fair enough._

“But you make it harder on yourself. You usually sleep in my bed anyway, so don't keep complaining that your bed is too small.” Jisung whines. It's incredibly Minho-like to make a fuss about their living state while simultaneously making it worse on himself. Not that he minds though, these past couple of nights proving that Minho's presence was more beneficial than he had originally believed it to be.

“I thought you wanted me there?” Minho might've just read his mind, but he would never admit it like this. Jisung lifts his fists as if he's squaring up against him. Minho throws both of his hands in the air, surrendering to Jisung with a chuckle. 

“See, this is why we can't ever be that serious.” He doesn't even know how they began this conversation; they've strayed so far from the original topic at hand.

Minho calms down from the laughter and turns to Jisung. He rests his elbow on the top of the couch and leans his head onto his hand. Jisung can physically feel the undivided attention on him now, making him squirm in his seat. “Well, you're smiling now, so I must be doing something right. But if you wanna talk, Sungie, then just talk. I’m not holding you back.”

They’re suspended in silence. Jisung is, once again, left to choose his next words carefully. There's an abomination of emotions contained within his body not so patiently waiting for a chance to be vocalized. 

“I don't know what to do.” 

“What do you mean?” Minho's voice has such a genuine quality to it, and Jisung can sense that he’ll eventually spill his mind into the air of the night. 

But for right now. “I don't know what to do, like, I just…” Minho's waiting attentively for Jisung to finish. “I just… don't know.”

“Well. You have effectively told me nothing.” 

“Give me some time here! I thought we were being serious now.” Even though they're back to their usual banter, the previous lightheartedness to his words are no longer there. Minho picks up on this and Jisung can see smile fall little by little.

“I promise I will be this time, okay?” Minho holds out his pinkie for Jisung. He takes his word for it. The elder never breaks their promises.

He tries again to find the words to describe the overwhelming amount of responsibility he has on his plate. He can handle it usually, but paired with his recent emotional exhaustion, it's not a great mix. “There's just so much going on, you know. Like we just work nonstop and I just feel so many things and it's just tiring, hyung. I want to throw it away sometimes.” He offers this to start, not able to tell the entire truth, but there's no harm in that. 

“I know Jisung.” He _knows_ Minho knows. They're subjected to the same treatment, the same practices and living space. They make their money in the same exact way. If anyone would know, it would be him. “But if it bothers you that much, you can always take a break? I know you probably don't want to, but it might help a little. You don't always have to be working.” 

_Yeah, like a quick little break would solve all his problems._ This angers him more than it should. _If only a break could solve his work stress and heal his heart too._ It's a little ironic in a sense and he begins to ramble.

“But a break won't help!” He’s close to shouting now. One more decibel and it would've woken up the rest of the members. “I've taken breaks before and they help a little bit, but then I’m back here stressing about deadlines and shit all over again. And that's on top of all the other things we have to do. Humans were made to adapt, right? So why haven't I adapted to any of this yet?” 

His eyes squeeze shut instinctively, but he can still feel Minho’s thumb gently sweeping across the top of his cheeks, wiping away at the tears that aren't formed yet.

“I know, it's just part of our job. But you're strong, you are adapting to it even if it doesn't feel like it. We all really look up to you.” Minho stalls. There's a hesitation in his breath before he continues. “I look up to you, Jisung. You have done so much for me, for all of us really, and you're doing well, okay?”

He presses himself into Minho’s side, his head now resting in the nook of the older boy’s neck. They let the lull of the darkness engulf them in the living room, and Jisung is the safest here, right in Minho's arms. He’s sure of it. 

Too safe, because his inhibitions are lowered down to practically nothing from Minho’s unexpected honesty and reassurance. 

“I really like you, hyung,” he says, his voice cracking and barely audible. 

“I like you too, Hannie,” Minho responds, thumb still caressing the same spot from earlier. 

“No, I like you,” he repeats, any confidence he just built back up plunging. Isn't there supposed to be a feeling of relief that comes from telling a hidden secret? Maybe it doesn't apply to confessions because, if anything, it's harder to say the second time. He could go back and laugh it off as just a joke. Or make it a platonic thing. But he's tired. Tired of letting himself push aside his feelings to the point that he's confessed on the basis of nothing in the middle of the night. Tired of always thinking of hypothetical scenarios. Tired of letting some feelings come in between him and Minho’s friendship. It's not fair, Minho's been so accommodating towards Jisung since day one and he doesn't want to expend the effort to save himself anymore. So he dives in head first, praying that someone is there to catch him on the other side.

“I know I shouldn't and I’m sorry, but I really, really like you, hyung. I don't want this to ruin our friendship.” The tears are prickling his eyes and are about to start flowing any second now. He wasn't planning to confess tonight, _or ever_ , but some things take their unexpected turns. “You don't need to say or do anything, but I can't keep pretending like I don't.” It's taken all of his strength and power to choke through this confession. His eyes remain shut, and he's terrified of what might happen if he decides to face the consequences of his actions 

Minho stiffens from under him.

 _God_ , he was already fucked before, but that was when Minho hadn't been aware of Jisung's feelings. Now? He should've just resisted his heart more, used his common sense and not have been so vulnerable.

“ ‘m sorry,” he murmurs out and moves his head slightly away from its place on the elder’s body, feeling as though he's not welcome there anymore. But the moment he does, Minho cups his hand against Jisung's cheek and carefully guides him back to where he was.

He gives into the touch and opens his eyes, Minho is staring attentively at him, an emotion of some sort painted across his face. Jisung's not so sure what the best course of action is now. Minho hasn't told him to leave, he hasn't _let_ him leave. So he waits for a response.

It feels like it's been hours until Minho finally speaks again.

“Was this what was bothering you?” Jisung is too weak to say anything right now, so he hopes telepathy works instead. 

“Well, I said this the first time, but I like you too.” 

Jisung's mouth falls open in shock and he’s rapidly blinking. The older boy smirks, with a blush dusting across his cheeks. He removes his hand from Jisung's face and rubs circles into the crevice between Jisung's thumb and index finger instead

“You what?” He still can't comprehend what just happened. The tears that had filled his eyes minutes prior suddenly feel foolish.

“I like you too. Did you really think that I wouldn't?” Minho deadpans, asking his straightforward questions that never have corresponding straightforward answers.

“I… How was I supposed to know that?” Jisung straightens himself upright in his seat.

“Well, note to future self. Don’t assume anything from you ever again.”

They sit there for a while. Jisung is still trying to process how they've gone from not talking to each other for days to _this_ . He glances at Minho, who's illuminated by the single lamp adjacent to the wall, causing him to adopt an unearthly glow. _He's beautiful_ , Jisung muses, sparkling under the dim light even though they're both makeup-less and dressed in a ratty t-shirt, gym shorts combination. 

Jisung is so, _so_ in love, it's not even funny anymore. 

“Hey Sungie,” Minho turns to him expectedly. “Can I kiss you?” 

Their faces are hovering over each other, waiting for when Jisung whispers back, “of course you can.”

Minho leans in first, his lips just barely pressing on Jisung's. He’s visibly shaking, more nervous than Jisung's ever expected him to be. It's tender and chaste, like they're both afraid of scaring off the other.

When they pull apart, they both start giggling like they've discovered the hidden secret of the universe. 

Jisung takes the initiative the second time, slotting their mouths back together and deepening the kiss, wanting more and more until he's practically pushed Minho all the way onto his back. They fall into a rhythm, natural, easy, like this is where the two of them have always belonged. 

Afterward, Minho’s face is flushed red and his lips are swollen, and Jisung assumes that the same could be said for him. There are a lot of boundaries that have been crossed tonight, but they can save the serious talk for later. For now, he’ll lie next to Minho on the narrow couch in this tranquility that they've created for themselves. 

“You know, when I was setting myself up for a heart to heart, I wasn't really expecting this, but I don't mind this either.” 

Minho only presses his lips against Jisung’s again. 

…

They're in the limbo period now, just having recently finished promotions for their newest comeback but not yet ready to begin rehearsing for the next one. It’s one of Jisung’s favorite times of the year. He doesn't have to stay as cooped up in the practice rooms, can work in the comfort of his bedroom instead of the chilly recording studio, and he can sleep in longer. 

It’s especially one of his favorite times because Minho's pressed into his neck with nowhere else to be, his chest rising and falling softly. His mouth is slightly parted, and his hair splayed messily on the pillow. Yet, to Jisung, this is as beautiful as Minho can get. 

It’s surely past lunchtime now. Jisung’s stomach is grumbling in discomfort, but he's in no rush to get up. He is in slight disbelief that Minho is still asleep, the elder typically waking up hours before him. He rakes his fingers through Minho’s silky hair, careful not to wake the older boy. He had kept Minho up until 5 a.m by just talking, the least he could do is let him rest for a while longer. 

“Remember when we first met?” Jisung chuckles as he thinks back to the question he had asked last night. 

“Yeah, we've talked about it before. You terrified me. Who knew a little squirrel like you could be so scary?” Minho had responded by pinching Jisung’s cheeks before Jisung swatted away his hand at the pain. 

“I was so wrong about you though.”

“What do you mean?” 

“I thought you were this super handsome dude, and I was so threatened by you.”

Minho gasped with a wounded expression. “Han Jisung. Are you telling me that I’m not handsome anymore? I'll break up with you right now!”

“You know what I mean!” Jisung said, pulling Minho closer to him and pressing his lips against the shell of Minho’s ear. “You're so handsome hyung, the most beautiful man in the world.”

He remembers Minho heating up at that even though the room was poorly lit. Afterward, Minho had grabbed both of their pinkies and intertwined them together before dozing off. There was no specific reason behind it, Jisung can only guess that it was a promise for nothing more than another tomorrow. 

And if the sun rays streaming into the room and onto Minho's face is any metric for Jisung to judge by, then he thinks that's exactly what he's got.

**Author's Note:**

> please leave kudos or a comment if you enjoyed! i'd love to hear y'all's thoughts on this <333


End file.
